Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from United Kingdom and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Kerrie Biddell to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Suicide,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Freddie Wadling,
Bush Tetras,
The Pop Group,
Joe Smooth,
The Skatalites,
Half Japanese,
Visage,
Supertramp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Kinks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pussy Galore,
Ohio Players,
Cheater Slicks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rotary Connection,
Yazoo,
Bootsy Collins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Moby Grape,
Connie Case,
Tropical Tobacco,
Derrick Morgan,
Black Sheep,
Isaac Hayes,
Q65,
Erasure,
Arthur Verocai,
Jacques Brel,
Fat Boys,
Mad Mike,
One Last Wish,
Andrew Hill,
Terrestrial Tones,
Smog,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Barracudas,
Agitation Free,
These Immortal Souls,
E-Dancer,
Wasted Youth,
The Litter,
Malaria!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flash Fearless,
Crispian St. Peters,
James White and The Blacks,
The Last Poets,
Groovy Waters,
John Holt,
Stiv Bators,
Pantaleimon,
John Foxx,
the Bar-Kays,
Jerry's Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
Bronski Beat,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.